Heroes, Volume 4: Redemption
by alienphantom
Summary: A gathering storm on the horizon. Answerless questions. Sinister shadows. A fight for survival.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**It Begins Again**

"So, what are we supposed to do now?" Ando asked Hiro as they stood in the terminal of JFK, awaiting their flight back to Japan. Both clutched suitcases in their hands and were sipping two coffees from the Starbucks in the terminal. Hiro looked over at Ando, a contented smile on his face. "We return home, old friend. Sylar is gone, Building 26 is finished, and our mission is complete."

Ando glanced over at his friend, whom with he'd been through thick and thin. Ever since he'd gotten his powers, Hiro had been always obsessed with helping the world, just like the comics he read like a holy scripture. With the war on Building 26 finished, there was no real reason for them to stay In America. Also, their lives back home were suffering their absence.

Nakamura Industries had been under the direction of Hiro's sister, but they needed the actual C.E.O to get anything done. Ando would have used up all his leave for the next year in another week, and his job wouldn't wait much longer. The time for being heroes was over. Everyone, them included, had earned the right to return to their lives.

"_Will all passengers for flight 326 to Tokyo, Japan, please board at terminal 12, thank you" _A woman's voice said over the loudspeaker, and Hiro and Ando made their way to the correct terminal. Hiro handed their tickets to a smiling receptionist, who glanced down at them for a moment, then waved a hand to her left.

"Your flight leaves straight off the tarmac. Simply make your way down the flight of stairs and out the door on your right." She said, somehow managing to keep that plastic smile on her face. "Thank you, ma'm." Hiro said as they both walked away and opened the door to the stairwell.

It was a bit dark inside, a faulty light the likely culprit. The typical smells of rubber lining and exhaust smoke cluttered the small space, which still managed to echo with the clip-clop of their footsteps. When they reached the bottom floor, Ando pushed on the door out onto the tarmac, but it refused to budge. He tried again, harder this time, but with the same result. Ando turned to look at Hiro, who made a hand gesture, asking what was wrong.

"The door's locked." Ando replied, and Hiro frowned. "Here, let'a me try." Hiro slid past Ando and braced his arm against the door, pushing against it. He grunted with the effort, while Ando sighed dramatically. "C'mon, let's just go back up and ask someone to unlock the door." Hiro, after giving it one more shove, nodded and turned around.

However, before they could take the first step, a black streak flashed by Hiro's face and imbedded itself in Ando's shoulder, piercing his jacket and arm. He uttered a pained cry as the dart sent a surge of electricity into him, buckling his knees and sending him to the floor. Hiro spun around, just in time to catch a dart in the stomach. He cried out as he stumbled back and onto the ground, weak from the blast of electricity. A wave of nausea rolled over him, and his head lolled back to the floor. He gazed up at the ceiling, and saw the dark figure of a man standing above him, gun in hand.

The man bent down, sliding his weapon into a holster on his hip. He reached a hand down to press against Hiro's temples, and Hiro saw his eyes turn from dark brown to a glowing, icy blue. He felt a rush of pressure in his head, and he fell back into cool bliss as unconsciousness claimed him.

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Senator Nathan Petrelli sat at his desk, overlooking the Washington monument reflection pool. He shuffled a few papers around on his desk, making a few errant marks with the pen he twirled in his hand. However, something was bothering him, like a fly buzzing behind his ear. He glanced over at the glass cabinet where a small clock sat.

Something about that clock had been nagging him lately, although he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Nathan shook his head and sighed, rising from his chair and grabbing his coat on the way out.

"Good-bye, Marissa. I'd like the new staff memo on my desk tomorrow morning." Nathan said to his secretary, who was busily typing on her computer. "Yes, sir, Senator." She replied, not looking up from her work.

Nathan shouldered on his coat as he walked out into the parking lot of the Senate building, to his new Hummer (the joys of a high-paying salary). He clicked the remote on his keys, unlocking the doors as he glanced up at the sky, where the sunset set tall, ominous thunderclouds afire with brilliant light. Still, the black clouds loomed over the capital, and sent quick shiver of foreboding through him.

He brushed it off and opened the driver-side door, sliding into the seat and starting the huge car. He pressed the gas and pulled out of the parking lot, turning up a ramp to the famous Turn-pike which circled D.C. After slipping into the flow of traffic, he mentally checked over his recent work. \

After some convincing, he'd managed to get Building 26 shut down and all the people home. The President had been relieved to hear about the absence of danger, although Danko had been placed in jail for the murder of four agents. Something about that nagged at the back of Nathan's mind, as if it wasn't the whole truth, but he ignored it. It wasn't as if Danko was a completely stable individual, so why should it seem suspicious that he went crazy?

However, his thoughts were cut short as a semi-truck in the next lane swerved towards him, its trailer craning around towards him. "Holy-!" Nathan shouted as he jerked the steering wheel to turn out of the way, but the trailer crashed into the rear of his car, crumpling the rear bumper like a tin-can. He was knocked into the next lane, where a Mini-van smashed into him, smashing the window next to him.

Nathan screamed as shards of glass and steel pierced his side and cheek as his Hummer was knocked to the side, crashing into the wall on the edge of the highway. Vibrations shook his spine and jostled his eyes in their sockets, making black spots dance in his vision. He groaned as he weakly turned his head to the left, straining to see through the warm trail of blood pouring from a gash in his forehead. Nathan's eyes widened as the barreling form of the semi filled his vision, on a direct collision course with his car.

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_**Cracka-BOOM!!!**_ The bellow of thunder filled the air as large thunder-heads rolled in over the horizon. Peter pulled his coat tighter to himself, glancing up at the sky. Dark cloud banks crowded over the New York skyline, making the streets seem closed and claustrophobic. Peter hurried his pace as he felt the first few patters of rain tap against the back of his neck.

After turning into the doorway of his apartment building, the hospice nurse stomped up the stairwell, shaking water from his hair as he did so. Climbing two floors until he reached his, Peter flicked his index finger, unlocking his door and throwing it open. He stepped inside, sliding out of his coat. After tossing it onto a chair, he slid into the kitchen and grabbed a can of cola and a bowl of microwave ramen from the fridge.

Peter popped the cup into the microwave, setting the timer and turning it on. Quiet humming filled the room as his dinner spun in the small over. Peter sighed and leaned against his kitchen counter. "Ahh, the joys of a hospice nurse's salary." Peter mumbled to himself, blowing a sigh into the bangs dangling over his face.

A knock on the door riled Peter from his thoughts over his minimum wage. He shuffled out of his little kitchen and cracked open the door. Peter stuck his head out the door, his eyes widening in surprise as to who it was. "Well, I didn't expect to see you again." Peter said.

"It's nice to see you too, old friend. However, I'm afraid I'm not here on a pleasure trip."

Peter's brow furrowed as he read the expression on his visitors face.

"You'd probably better come inside, Mohinder."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"**Save the Cheerleader, Save the World**

"So, Mohinder, what brings you back to New York?" Peter asked as he sat down in his armchair, facing Mohinder.

Mohinder sat down in a chair opposite Peter, his eyes sagging with the tell-tale signs of jet-lag. He sighed as he began to speak.

"After Sylar's funeral, I returned to India to visit Molly. When I arrived, I found my apartment broken into. Several of my files, as well as my fathers, were taken. I came here because of what was taken."

"What were the files about?"

"They contained detailed information on the catalyst that would activate abilities, ability mimicry, such as yours, and rapid cellular regeneration." Mohinder finished with an apprehensive expression. Peter's eyes widened in realization.

"You mean, Claire?"

"Yes, I came here to warn you, since the files on your own ability are gone as well. However, I don't know where to find Claire. I figured you would."

Peter stood up, moving over to his coat rack. Mohinder rose as well, following Peter as he slipped on his jacket and strode out the door. "I assume we're going to Texas, then?" Mohinder asked Peter as they descended the stairs and stepped out into the driving rain. Peter shook his head as he looked skyward.

"Nope, California. Now, hold on." Peter grabbed Mohinder by the arms and shot up into the sky, disappearing from view into the clouds.

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Hiro awoke, sputtering, as cold water was splashed onto his face. He sat up and wiped the water from his eyes, squinting in the bright light.

"Hiro, thank God you're awake!"

"Ando, is that you?" Hiro blinked and looked up, seeing the blurred form of a person. His glasses were cracked in several places, making it hard to see. From what he could tell, they were in a small room, with two concrete benches on the walls, a sink, and a toilet. Other than that, the room was bare concrete.

"Yes, Hiro, it's me. I don't know what happened, but I woke up here, and you were still passed out." Ando said, relieved now that his friend was awake. Well, as relieved as someone can be when they're stuck in a cell.

"Have you tried blasting us out of here?" Hiro asked, gesturing to the door with a shake of his head. Ando nodded sadly.

"Yes, but it doesn't work. See?" Ando held up his hands and clenched, but there was no rush of red sparks. His power was gone, or at least it wasn't working. Hiro frowned, then scratched his head. "Hmm. How to get out of here." Hiro mumbled thoughtfully.

"I honestly believe that there isn't one." Ando said with a sigh as he plopped down onto the concrete bench that passed for his bed. Fate, however, chose that moment to prove him wrong. And fate did it, spectacularly.

Ando and Hiro both flinched as a wailing klaxon sounded through the cell and whatever building was on the outside. The distinct sound of gunshots and marching feet echoed through the walls, making it seem as if a war was going on.

"What the hell is going on?!" Ando yelled at Hiro, both of them covering their ears to block out the deafening noise of the alarm. Hiro shook his head, as he didn't understand it either. Their attention was diverted back to the door, when several gunshots and a scream were heard from behind it.

Suddenly, the door flew open, sending the broken pieces of the lock scattering into Hiro and Ando's cell. Two people stepped in, a boy and a girl. Both looked roughly 17, and the guy called out.

"You two Hiro and Ando?" The boy asked in a gruff tone. He wore a dark blue T-shirt with worn blue jeans and black converse. His messy brown hair hung over his green eyes, which were hidden by a pair of glasses. A pair of fingerless black gloves were worn on his hands.

"Uh, yes?" Ando answered uncertainly.

"Good, come with us. We're bustin' you two outta here."

Ando and Hiro glanced at each other for a second, then rushed after the boy and girl into the hall. When they emerged, a platoon of four guards rounded the corner, guns leveled at their chests. As the lead guard fired off a dozen shots, the brunette teen raised his hand, palm open, stopping the bullets in mid-air. With a flick of his fingers, he sent the swarm of bullets back. Each guard crumpled in a heap, a neat hole in the middle of their foreheads.

"Other way, c'mon!" The girl shouted, waving a hand down the opposite part corridor. She had dark brown hair, chocolate brown eyes and wore a dark red tank-top with a pine green jacket, skinny blue jeans, blue converse, and a gold necklace. The other three followed her, running down the hallway and turning a corner, just as another team of guards rounded the corner behind them. Ando, at the back of the group, ducked under a shot that slammed into the wall, pock marking the concrete.

The next hall way had a bank of windows on the left side, which overlooked downtown New York City. The other led into a sea of cubicles, which stretched across the building.

Dashing into the maze of cubicles, the group ran towards the opposite side of the room. Just then, the guards rounded the corner and opened fire. Hiro screamed as a slug hit him in the shoulder, falling to the ground and gripping his arm in pain.

"Hiro!" Ando cried as he bent to pick up his fired. At the other end of the room, the boy had just flung open an exit door, which lead to a stairwell. The girl turned and swore under her breath, then ran back to help Ando, who was trying to drag Hiro away. She reached them with the guards just a few feet away.

"Back off!" She yelled as she threw up a hand, palm facing the guards. A spinning whirlwind erupted from her hand, slamming into the guards and knocking them back. She stopped the hand-held tornado as Ando got Hiro propped on his shoulder and hauled his friend towards the stairs.

"C'mon, man, we gotta move!" He shouted at Ando and the girl. They all thumped down the staircase, doors flying by as the endless blare of klaxons and the harsh red glare of alarm lights filled the building. After several floors of running, the boy flicked his finger and the door on the bottom floor flew open, shattering the lock.

The group sprinted out into the pouring rain, slipping on the slick sidewalk for a second. They had come out in the obvious rear of the building, from a service entrance. The boy grabbed Ando's arm.

"Come with us, we can help your friend." He commanded a serious look on his face. Ando glanced from his down to Hiro, who looked pale from the amount of blood he was using. After a few seconds of deliberation, Ando's mouth hardened and he nodded. The boy nodded in response and took out a cell phone, holding it to his ear and muttering something into it. After a few seconds, he nodded and snapped it closed. He turned to Ando, who was now slapping Hiro in an attempt to wake him up.

"C'mon, people. Our ride's here." And, right after the boy finished speaking, a black SUV pulled up to the curb. The back door popped open, and they all piled inside, with the boy riding shotgun. As soon as the doors closed, the driver floored the accelerator and, tires screeching, the car tore off down the street, merging into New York traffic.

Hiro had just managed to open his eyes when they fell on the rear-view mirror. The driver's blue eyes locked with Hiro's and he smirked. "Feeling alright there, friend?" He asked, to which Hiro could only shake his head.

"Thank you…for…rescuing us." He managed to weakly utter.

The driver scoffed. "Oh, it was no problem. After all, that's what friends do. Right, carp?"

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"Wake up, you miserable imposter."

Nathan dimly returned to consciousness, his eyes closing again almost immediately after opening from the bright light above his head. The last thing he remembered was the semi heading fro him...wait. He should be dead. And yet, he didn't even feel the slightest pain. As if all his wounds were healed.

"I said, WAKE UP!!"

Nathan swore as a booted foot connected with his ribs, cracking at least one. He felt himself being dragged up by his hair until he was sitting up, a position which made his fractured rib flare with pain. But, it already felt distant, as if the pain were behind a wall.

Nathan opened his eyes, which were met with brown ones with a flare of rage smoldering inside. He took in the furrowed forehead, the unshaven stubble, and the flaring nostrils. Nathan was staring at his own face. The other him glared at him with a furious look.

"Get the fuck out of my body, _**Sylar**_."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Ghosts from The Past**

_In the grand schemes of our lives, what do we truly have to define ourselves with? Names? Faces? Both can be changed. Only one's past is absolute. _

_Memories and experiences define who we are. And, what we are capable of. –Mohinder Suresh_

"I can honestly say that I hate my life." Claire grumbled as she slammed her locker shut. After the mess with Sylar back in D.C, everyone had gone back to where they belonged. Against her wishes, Claire had been sent home to continue going to school, while her father had left _again._ He'd said that he was tying in some old contacts for the new Company, but apparently decided that Claire's job was done. So, here she sat, forced to endure the school day just like any other 17-year-old girl.

So, now she was stuck here playing sheep, as usual, while her dad was off doing the important stuff. God, after all she'd been through, she was still stuck at home! It was all so, just so…typical! Granted, she was probably being a bit over-the-top about it, but a good fume made her feel better.

The bell rang, and Claire joined the flood of students surging towards the door, bag in hand. The irony didn't miss her that now that she had a quasi-normal life, she wanted anything but. However, there really wasn't much she could do about it. However, fate has a way of involving those that are seemingly out of the loop, usually getting them stuck in the middle of the climax of events.

As Claire stepped onto the bus (her father still wouldn't let her have a new car) and sat down in her seat, bag by her side, she watched the babbling, laughing crowd of students with a sense of detachment. After all she'd been through, she felt separated from them, as clearly as if she stood behind a wall of steel.

When her stop finally arrived, Claire lazily stepped off the bus, casting a glance skyward. She blocked her eyes from the dazzling Costa Verde sunshine and, for just a second, she could have sworn she saw a familiar shape streak across the clouds, but she shrugged it off as being a bird or plane.

She stepped inside her home, surveying the front room for her family. "Mom? Lyle? Hello?

"Claire? I'm in the kitchen, sweetie." Sandra called back from inside. Claire strolled in, glancing at her mother. There was the real reason her father was avoiding coming home, even if she didn't know it. Noah was putting off coming home, because he wasn't sure if he still had a home to come back to.

Claire's mother was in the kitchen, stirring a bowl of batter next to the stove. She smiled at her daughter as she walked in. "Hi, Claire. How was school?"

Claire grumbled an unintelligible reply and sat down on a barstool next to their island. "It sucked, just like every other day. I just feel so…useless, just sitting here doing nothing!"

"Claire, I know you're upset. But frankly, I agree with your father. You deserve the chance at a normal life. And neither of us are going to let something stop you. You can any thing you want once high school's over for the year."

Claire looked like she was going to argue, but sighed. "Yeah, okay Mom. I'll see you later." She turned and trudged up the stairs, backpack slung over her shoulder. She threw it on her desk in her room and collapsed on the bed, sighing contentedly as she sank into the cool sheets. Ahh, bliss.

Her little time of peace was cut short by the doorbell ringing, which broke her out of her happy state. "Claire, can you get that? I'm a bit tied up right now." Her mother called up to her, and Claire huffed and stood from her bed, making a few of her stuffed animals fall to the floor. After deciding to pick them up later, Claire trotted down the stairs and passed her mother, who was currently stirring a pot on the stove.

The doorbell rang again. "Okay, I'm coming!" Claire yelled to whoever was outside, then opened the door. The person standing there, however, made her gasp in shock. "Wha…how…what are **you** doing here?!" She questioned, and the person standing on her front porch chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, that's a long story." Zack said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

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_Get the fuck out of my body, Sylar!_

Nathan glared at his look-a-like. "I could say the same thing, you miserable fake. So, how'd you survive the fire? Healing, right?"

The dishelved Nathan glared at him venomously then drew back a fist and punched him square in the nose, cracking it and sending Nathan falling to the ground amid a halo of blood droplets. He swore and gently touched his now-broken nose.

Nathan stood over himself, glaring at the copy. "I survived because people decided I was more useful alive than dead. And, while I'm gone; you mosey in and take over my life! Now, **GIVE IT BACK!!!**" Nathan screamed, kicking the first Nathan in the face. "Why can't you just lay down and die, you persistent **BASTARD!!??"**

Spitting out a tooth, the Nathan on the floor glared up at the other. "Well, I hate to disappoint you, pal, but I'm Nathan Petrelli, not YOU!" Nathan punctuated the last word by driving his foot into the other's groin, sending him to the ground with a whimper. Nathan stood up, spitting a wad of blood into the corner, and stood over the other.

"I don't know what you're problem is, but I sure as hell don't intend to let you beat me up anymore."

With that, Nathan picked up his leg to smash in the one on the floor's face, but the other grabbed his foot and yanked hard, pulling Nathan over with a yell. They rolled on the floor, punching and swearing at one another, until they hit the wall of the room they were in. At the same instant, both Nathans pulled back their necks and slammed into a double-sided head butt. The identical skulls collided, and they both were suddenly thrown apart and held against opposite walls.

"Now, as much fun as it is watching you two kill each other, we have work to accomplish." A man stepped out from the shadows in the room, making his presence known. He had dishelved grey hair, a pair of small-lensed spectacles, and a thick brown hunting coat over a dirty flannel shirt and a pair of tattered jeans.

Nathan (the one who was in the car-crash) looked over at him quizzically. "And just…who the hell…are you?" He demanded, out of breath from his recent fight. The man looked at him with an expression akin to amusement.

"Well, my boy, I figured (cough) that you would have remembered me. After all, you did (cough) cross half of the country to find me last time."

Nathan still looked confused, so the man elaborated.

"I'm insulted you still don't remember. Oh, well, I feel that, soon, you'll understand **everything**." Samson Gray finished, an amused smirk on his face.

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"Kensei? But, you died!" Hiro shouted, frantically trying to sit up in his seat in his weakened state. Adam rolled his eyes in the mirror, while Ando looked on in shock.

"Hiro, my boy, did you honestly think someone like me would stay dead for long?" He asked, looking a Hiro questioningly through the rear-view mirror. "No, after Arthur stole my ability, I collapsed into dust. Hurt like hell, too. But, one day I simply…woke up. As if nothing had happened."

"How…how did you survive?" Ando asked, engrossed in the story. Adam shrugged.

"A woman, whom you'll both meet soon, used her ability to bring me back. Something about needing me in a 'coming war', although Heaven knows I've fought in enough of them over the years."

The SUV turned off the road and crossed the Washington Bridge, the Hudson River churning beneath them. After a few minutes of driving, through amazingly light traffic, they crossed into New Jersey.

"But, Kensei, why save us?" Ando asked, while Hiro simply looked shell-shocked.

"Because, Ando, you and Carp are necessary. We need all the people we can, and you two are prime candidates. So, congratulations, boys. You've just been welcome into our 'happy little club'." Adam did nothing to disguise the apathy in his voice.

After a few more turns, they were deep within a New Jersey suburb, with small townhouses on either side. Adam turned sharply, pulling into a thin alley between an auto shop and a grocer. A garage door at the dead-end of the alley slid open with a grinding of gears, and Adam drove the vehicle through.

It was dark inside, but it seemed to be a large, cavernous space, like the inside of a warehouse. The smells of food and coffee mixed with sweat filled the air. The boy stepped forward, with the girl a step behind. He looked out into the darkness, seeming to focus on something in the shadows.

"We got Nakamura and the sidekick, guys. Turn on the lights, will ya?" He called into the darkness. There was a clang, and strip lighting on the ceiling lit up in stages, revealing a huge space with portions of scrap steel erected to make makeshift rooms. The part they were now facing was the largest, with several scattered chairs and couches, a few rickety tables, and a small plasma screen T.V. A small kitchen jutted out from one wall, with a mini-fridge, microwave, and coffee pot. The occupants of the warehouse were standing before them, a rather motley group, all together.

A boy who looked about 17, in a dark blue jacket, white T-shirt, and blue jeans, with short black hair, hovered a few feet off the ground, looking as if he was sitting cross-legged in mid-air. A woman, looking to be in her mid-twenties, sat on a tattered arm chair, her long raven hair falling over a book held in her lap. She wore a tight tank top emblazoned with a union jack, bell-bottom jeans, and black Nikes. A third girl, who looked about 18, with a Hispanic complexion, wearing a light pink and blue shirt adorned with a sun design on the chest, light blue skinny jeans tucked into cowboy boots, and black fingerless gloves stood next to the final member of the little group. The kid couldn't have been more than thirteen, but he obviously calling the spots. He was pale, but still obviously African America. His hair was short and curly, and he wore a jean jacket, blue jeans, and grey converse with a white undershirt. He had a brown backpack next to his feet, with a blackberry held in his hand.

The boy and girl whom had helped rescue Hiro and Ando stepped forward, the girl going over to stand by the Hispanic girl, while the boy with brown hair lightly rose from the ground and turned, hovering next to the other boy. Adam, standing behind the two, gave Hiro a tap on the back. It was probably meant to be encouraging, but had the opposite effect. Hiro was wary of these people. Were they out to get them too?

The black boy stepped forward, his lips cracking into a warm smile. "Hi, you two must be Hiro and Ando. I'm glad we could help you guys." He said, and he actually sounded sincere.

"Thank you, but …who are you people?" Hiro asked, and the boy nodded his head.

"I'm Micah, and **this**," Micah gestured back at the group assembled behind him, "is REBEL. Welcome to the club."

Yeah…sorry I haven't updated. Class trip. The Keys were awesome. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. R&R! :)


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